


Wilted Flowers

by Wasteland_Wonder



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Hades and Persephone AU, Kidnapping, Slight fluff, mercy/reaper - Freeform, mercykill - Freeform, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:33:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wasteland_Wonder/pseuds/Wasteland_Wonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hades and Persephone AU with Reaper and Mercy! </p><p>Prompt inspired by queenqunari</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wilted Flowers

Golden rays spraying brightly from her shoulders drifted the benevolent goddess just above the barren earth, a tangle of rapidly growing berries nigh-bursting with juice and blooming orange blossoms curved in her wake. Heaving a sigh, a flick of her dainty hand pulled a thin apple tree from the hardened soil, and Mercy flew to it. Fluttering wings and downcast eyes - she knew it was not a nymph, but perhaps she could pretend to have a friend. If only the handsome God of truth, of prophecy, had not attempted to woo her with a gift of seventy-six navy irises. Her mother, presider over divine order and unwritten law, saw this gift with her one piercing eye, and found it lacking. Thus, Mercy was sent away. The small goddess wouldn't have minded residing in nature so much if it wasn't for the loneliness. She was alone, and beautiful. 

He was alone as well, and no one ever called him beautiful. As if sensing her thoughts, a whirling noise echoed darkly from nearby, and sky blue eyes investigated. A deep well, tendrils of mauve lapping at the rims; the angelic form only hesitated momentarily before flitting cautiously to it. Pitch flames joined the purple streaks, and out of the whurls a skeletal white masked appeared, piercing the dark; charcoal robes flowed downward from it, arms crossed over a broad chest. Eyes widening, Mercy cracked an unthreatening smile, the mask tilted. 

Reaper couldn't believe the visage before him - certainly he had sensed someone close to one of the myriad portals to his assigned abode - the Underworld. But this stunning creature, the daughter of Zues, rumored to be courted by the hero God? This realization tightened his ashen chest - the King of Hell had nothing but contempt for the blonde-haired God. Worshipped and adored by all, and now he had this striking woman as his consort? But, she was alone, and beautiful. This realization made a wicked smile curve under the bone mask.

"Hello," his voice a rasp, his gauntleted hand swept before him as he bowed shortly. A pleasant giggle and a timid "greetings!" were the answer. Mercy's body curved slightly in on itself, maroon dusting her high cheeks. Reaper's chuckle was deep and rich, and trilled something at the life goddess' core. Before her light eyes, he turned to wispy smoke, only the strike of silver claws flashed out before he was no longer in her line of sight; Mercy blinked once, twice before gasping shrilly. A solid, chilly form pressed tightly against her back, five glinting points clasping her rounded hip as Reaper's other hand brought forth a handful of sunset-hued flowers to her face. There was a high-pitched squeal before she spun, thin arms wrapped securely about the Lord and Mercy sang her thanks. The splendid rays of her nearly blinded him, and Reaper reminded himself this was all a ploy to steal her from the Hero.

\------------------------------------------

Well, that was how it had started. The Ruler of the Underworld could not admit, least to all himself, that he was enjoying Mercy's sweet company. He would appear before her wherever she was sowing useful crops or bountiful bunches of blooms; he would ascend like a wraith through wells, crawl up through fissures in the crust. Hell, as a feverish desire for the winged goddess overtook Reaper, he would claw rabidly through tons of dirt to reach her. Mercy would chatter and bring life, Reaper would listen and stay by her side. Once - after much delightful begging on her part - Reaper allowed himself to hold tight to her as Mercy fluttered about over the forests she had created; Reaper had ignored the view in favor of sliding crimson eyes shut and just feeling her move beneath him, memorizing her heart beat. She didn't mind his quiet, his half hidden jabs at the other gods, or even how all the newly-born plants would wilt under his thudding footfalls. For once, something warm spread through Reaper when he saw his presented flowers plaited in her flaxen hair. He had to have her. 

\------------------------------------------

"But my dear, won't you give him another chance?" The Hero's twin sister, goddess of the hunt, edged at Mercy in her even voice. Twins by birth, but not in looks: the huntress' heather flesh and wine-dyed mane shone coldly in the sun as she plucked another lily from the grove. The third companion, the War goddess, tossed her cropped magenta dome and grunted "I agree with your Mother" before cradling another rose in her bulky arms. Mercy remained silent for now: grateful to have her friends by her, but growing increasingly weary from the conversation. The bouquet? A tribute to her silver-haired mother, and a beg to let Mercy return to Olympus. It was not Mercy's idea, but she solemnly gathered a larkspur here and there. 

"He is, lovely," Mercy allowed, and the quick dark eyes of the huntress pierced her. Before that voluminous ponytail could swing with a disapproving shake of the head, Mercy elaborated: "He has always been kind to me. Very handsome... And strong."

Approval sounded, but whatever else was said was drowned out by Reaper's mind. He saw red, and burst forth from his hiding place just beneath the surface. Shining talons caught on her clean linens, tearing a hold onto them and grappled his well-muscled arms around Mercy's shocked form, a snarl ripped from him as he drug her down to Hell. 

\------------------------------------------

Reaper didn't like her quiet sobs, or her accusations that it was just because he didn't want the Hero to have her. Phasing through the stone walls while Mercy slept, Reaper could cast his hand in long wanting strokes along her side in what he hoped was a comforting manner. Mercy never let on that she was awake the entire time.

When Death finally approached her when she was "awake" it was with a mumbled command of "follow me". Head low, she acquiesced. Sorrow had taken hold of the mythical woman; though she was with Reaper, whose company she had once immensely coveted, Mercy now felt betrayed by the deathly King. Not only that, but the sulfur-leaden rock that coated every non-flaming surface in the Underworld would not let her creations sprout. Lost in her thoughts, it was only a welcome familiar scent that snapped her back to the present: Earth. Woody, deep, stinging her nostrils. The crowning light about her head tossed back in glee before she zipped to one of the large pots, immediately waving a hand curiously. A verdant curl quickly rooted upward from the soil, and fat tears clung to her long lashes. Reaper held her as she wiped the glad moisture into his leathery cloak.

"It started because of him," the strength of her gaze nearly halted Reaper's unsure words, but he pushed forth: "But once we spent time together... I couldn't... Exist without you." He chose his words carefully, as "live" wouldn't suffice. Reaper's hardened gauntlet cradled her silken cheek, and he hissed in an unnecessary breath as she leaned into it. "Be my Queen," the dead man rushed out. Mercy stared up at him momentarily before nodding her assent, peppering the mask with kisses. 

Reaper's hands grasped her, and Mercy was hit with a wave of dizziness. They were suddenly in a throne room. Mercy was used to his wraith form - the man had even ghosted through her body several times on their walks when he wanted to hear sweet gasping come from Mercy's wanted lips - but the teleporting would take some time to become used to. Urns of blood and tapestries of garnet decorated the dusty hall. And the two of them were on the throne of Hell. In minutes, Reaper was moving inside her, claws trailing along the breadth of her hips, squeezing her bouncing breasts tightly, whispering sultry words that she did not recognize into her ear.

\------------------------------------------

Without her, his once shattered soul would have been stripped away. Yet the Reaper gave no thought to what the mortals would do without her. Pleas of starvation and pestilence reached the ears of her ruling father, and he forced the God of the Underworld to release her in his booming, accented voice. Reaper could not say no, and held her possessively as Mercy wept openly into the strained crook of his neck. The messenger God was sent to retrieve her, and long caramel dreadlocks flung this way and that with his rapid, confused movements. 

"Please!" Mercy choked, focusing on the eyeholes of his facade, never to see the pain that adorned his scarred face. Talons raked desperately through her tresses, dislodging one of the bright blooms which she snapped up hurriedly with another sob. Unseen, bloodshot eyes searched her gorgeous face, stricken with grief. An idea sparked, and a gauntlet retrieved a handful of purplish seeds from within his robes, pushing them to Mercy's coral lips.

"These will make you feel better," Reaper offered, guts twisting at lying to her yet again. But it was necessary. Mercy munched obediently before the messenger grasped her tiny wrist, ripping her from her King's grasp as he sped her back to Olympus. 

\------------------------------------------

The earth flourished with her return - babies once again became plump and fields full and Mercy's heart withered, but Death still waited. There was a constant heavy weight in her stomach - the sullen goddess thought it be be emotional turmoil, but one night a half year later realized they were the undigested seeds Reaper had fed her. Sleep took her, and when Mercy awoke it was against uneven rock. Murmuring in protest, she only leapt up when she heard a hearty - but very pleased chuckle. Reaper - her King - was seated in his hellish throne, thick thighs spread confidently and invitingly. Mercy's face blanched white and Reaper's relief only heightened. Gauntleted hands opened outward.

"What is it, my Queen? You look like you've seen a ghost." Then the beaming goddess crashed into him, immediately entangling their limbs, the smacking of lips, contented groans and happy giggles filled Hell's once-silent halls. The mortals could do without her, Mercy decided, at least for half of the year.

**Author's Note:**

> Some of them were very vague SO!:
> 
> Reaper - Hades - God of the dead and King of the Underworld  
> Mercy - Persephone - Goddess of Springtime, Queen of the Underworld  
> Jack/76 - Apollo - God of archery, truth and light  
> Ana Amari - Demeter - Goddess of fertility, law and order  
> Widowmaker - Artemis - Goddess of the hunt, moon and archery  
> Zarya - Athena - Goddess of wisdom and war  
> Reinhardt - Zues - God of Thunder and justice  
> Lúcio - Hermes - The messenger god and God of travelers
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
